Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Love(?) Letters to New York

Dear Guy Who Muttered "Fuck You" Under His Breath As I Passed This Morning,

Seriously, what gives? You wanted the veritable foot of sidewalk space I was occupying? Didn't like that I was laden down with bags to help me survive errands, the gym, and a rehearsal? Perhaps you somehow sensed that I was on my way to the post office to pick up the insured package containing my new Marc Jacobs bauble watch, and couldn't help seething with jealousy?

Do us both a favor next time: man-up and say it out loud. Then I won't be the only one to know what an ass you are.

The Frog Princess


Dear Guys Walking Behind Me On Atlantic Ave,

Although I couldn't help but find your conversation riveting, might I suggest that alternating between comments on the fineness of a woman's body and the story of a girl who was murdered and apparently disemboweled might be considered more than a little bit creepy by the girl whose ass you've been ogling.

Just a heads-up.

Yours In Christ,


Dear M14 Bus,

You may save me the trouble of walking 5 avenue-blocks, but you will never, ever be faster.

Let's work on that, m'kay?

All the Best,


Dear Every Consumer in the HM on 5th and 42nd,

Oh my god would you fucking MOVE YOUR ASS ALREADY!?!? Christ! I have seen tortoises move faster than you people! You've already paid for your damned purchases, now get the fuck out of the store! Or at least get out of my way so I can escape the recycled air and cheesy pop music.



Dear Clearly-Non-New-York Teenagers in Line in Front of Me,

Your shorts are too short.

Also they are white.

This should not be legal.



Dear Woman on The G Train,

Fuschia eye shadow = hot

Fuschia hair = edgy, but questionable in anyone over the age of 30 which you so very clearly are.

Both of the above paired with matching lipstick and nail polish? I'm pretty sure that was outlawed in 1984.



Dear Guy On The Bus Who Said "Bless You" When I Sneezed,

Thank you.

No, really. Thank you.



Dear Trader Joes,

Holy Crap your frozen nuggets actually taste like chicken. I think I have died and gone to Okay Sue Me But I've Barely Eaten All Day And At Least The Ketchup Was Homemade Late Night Snack HEAVEN!


(Okay, so that's not really a New York thing, but cut a girl some slack..)


Dear Guy On The A Train Planning to "Drink From the Carton" and "Not Do Dishes,"

I hope you like roaches.

And backwash.




Dear G Train,

Thank you for arriving promptly the last two evenings on my journey home. If you could kindly continue this trend tomorrow at 4:00am when I'm en route to my pre-dawn film shoot, I would be exceptionally grateful.

Many Thanks,


Dear Readers With Readers (Ha! I Made a Funny!) Who Received A Blank Post,

My sincerest apologies. I, your humble author, take full responsibility for shifting the blame elsewhere.

Blogger had a spazz. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Love and Hugs,


Z said...

haha, ah, NY! sooo many of these moments (and really - the crowds at H&M? always seem to be even slower than the already-slow crowds everywhere!)

Anonymous said...

Pink hair!! I miss having pink hair!

Jess said...

Um, I need a picture of the bauble watch! Like, NOW.

Kass said...

Maybe the first guy hates women..wish sucks..a lot.

And I second Jess, give us a picture!

Ashley said...

hehehe this sounds like my day to day pretty accurately.

PS You crack me up. And I need a pitcher of mojitos right. now. You in?